


Hands Held

by evxdevo



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Other, but yeah no disrespect intended, even though laf is nonbinary, rock on, this is tagged as F/F because some fans still look for LaFerry under that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 16:10:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3656709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evxdevo/pseuds/evxdevo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's something intimate about holding hands, and Perry (ace!Perry heck yeah) isn't certain what that means.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands Held

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for misgendering (when talking about LaF as a kid, Perry's mind uses female pronouns), plus name slip-ups

There’s something natural about it when you’re little. That your hand should slip into your best friend’s, pull her along with you, keep her within arm’s reach. It’s instinctive to hold onto each other in the hallways of the elementary school, galloping across the playground, crossing the street on your way home.

There’s something natural about it, something that didn’t go away. Something that didn’t go away when, maybe, it should have.

Something that keeps Perry reaching for LaF’s hand, long after their jump rope days are over.

 

Touch is a curious thing, because there are moments when Perry finds she needs it with such urgency, needs to wrap LaF’s hand in her own, keep them close, keep them safe, keep them tethered here.

And there are other kinds of touch. Perry brushes hair from LaFontaine’s face as they sleep, holds an ice pack to their head or a bandage to a scrape, envelopes them in a full-body hug to say _I’m so glad you’re safe_.

But then there’s the way Carmilla touches Laura, running her hands down her sides, under her shirt, even, pushing their bodies together, lips crashing into each other, moving against each other, that’s what romance is.

That’s what love is, right?

 

Perry’s hand and LaFontaine’s weave together with such familiarity, in sync, molded to fit each other from years of practice. A forest path that’s been travelled so many times, anyone can follow it with ease.

 

Perry loves LaFontaine. She wants to hold onto them, to forever stand between them and danger, to keep them in arm’s reach just in case they find they must intertwine their hands at a moment’s notice.

She loves LaFontaine, and it’s been a long time in the making, and she doesn’t know if it’s the same way Carmilla loves Laura, and she would like to think that it’s not.

She doesn’t want LaFontaine’s body to move against her like that.

 

When lips touch for the first time, it’s her fault. They lay sprawled on her bed in the dorm, hands wrapped together, and she’s thinking about a new kind of touch. Perry nestles closer to LaFontaine and finds herself pressing her lips against Laf’s cheek. Motherly, almost, she can convince herself.

But then LaF shifts, and their lips meet, and for a moment, Perry doesn’t pull away.

_This is what you wanted, isn’t it?_

_Touch?_

But then, their mouths are too wet and teeth too hard and tongues weirdly slimy and Perry jerks back.

 

“I’m sorry,” LaFontaine says. “Oh my god, Perr, I’m so sorry.”

“This feels weird. This feels wrong, Susan.”

_Susan._

_Don’t use that name._

“I mean, La-- I’m sorry--”

“Hey, no,” LaF reaches for her hand. And there it is, the ease of it, fingers curling into each other, simple and natural and familiar. Hands held.

 

Perry says, “I don’t want to kiss you.”

“Yeah,” LaF looks down at the sheets, “I can see that.”

“It doesn’t feel right.”

“Okay.”

“Please don’t hate me.”

“Never.”

 

Perry can feel tears building behind her eyes. God, what did she just do?

She turns to wrap an arm around LaFontaine, to bury her face in their shoulder.

 

“I don’t know if I love you. I mean, I love you, but--”

“I know.” LaFontaine pulls Perry to them, hands still locked, bodies where they’re supposed to be.

 

Not on each other. Not in each other. No squirming against each other, tangling the sheets. No mouths on mouths, no hands in shirts, or fingers against bra straps. Just hand in hand, the very basics of skin on skin.

 

“I decided, I do love you,” Perry says.

“Me too.”

 

And this? This moment of soft warmth and easy embrace -- this feels normal.


End file.
